NCAA Tournament: The "Effort Guys" Phenomenon

The biggest story of this year's NCAA men's basketball tournament is not the downfall of Coach Calipari and Kentucky, the unlikely underdogs at Cornell and Northern Iowa, or double-overtime thrillers.

It's the reemergence of the token white "Effort Guy."  Every team has at least one, and they embrace their role each and every night.  At a time in college basketball where the majority of Division I athletes are African-American or are auditioning for the NBA draft, there is still a place for the "effort guy" on elite teams.  Before a team even qualifies for the Big Dance they are led throughout the season by the blood, sweat, and tears of the Effort Guy.

An Effort Guy doesn't lead his team in any statistical category.  He is almost assuredly a team captain.  His captaincy is not due to his ability to execute an alley-oop, but due to his hustle in diving headfirst into the scorer's table to save an errant pass to a teammate, who then tosses the "oop" to a freshman headed to the NBA in the first round of the draft.

The Effort Guy has heart and will take a charge with two minutes left in overtime, pound his chest, then brush his sweat-soaked frat-boy hair out of his eyes and with ice in his veins, hit the game-winning shot as the buzzer sounds.

He's a cold-blooded shooter from outside the arc, raining threes when his team needs them most.  He doesn't often venture inside to bang bodies with seven footers.  He prefers to wait patiently with one heel hovering out-of-bounds for a pass from a penetrating guard and then knock down the dagger with a rainbow of a shot that barely drifts over the outstretched arm of a future New York Knick on the opposing team.

Effort Guy can't rock the rim (preferring the less ostentatious lay-up), would never dream about dribbling behind his back, and rarely deviates from the coach's (who is most likely his Dad or at the very least, an uncle) game plan.  If he isn't the coach's son or close relative, he is undoubtedly the heir of an NBA great from the 60s or 70s (see Jonnie West).  

In order to qualify as an Effort Guy, you must be a scholar-athlete maintaining a GPA of 3.4 or higher, major in communications or international business, shoot 200-300 three-point shots daily in preparation for your game-winning shot of destiny, maintain a free throw percentage above 85, and wear tacky black ankle socks.  

Effort Guys are also required to stay all four years at school, because let's be honest, "EG's" aren't declaring for the NBA draft.  Scouts aren't looking for a 22" vertical.

Optional qualifications for an EG include, but are not limited to, awkwardly large feet, the build of a Kenyan marathoner, a black eye from chasing a loose ball into a cameraman, a trust fund, and nominations for "sportsmanship" or "community involvement" awards. Tattoos are frowned upon and should be covered, if possible.

Effort guys can be seen in the gym approximately five hours before tip-off shooting free throws, stretching, and hiding in a dark closet practicing their post-foul passionate motivational howl. 

No post-game celebration for our Effort Guys.

They prefer to lie motionless on their hotel room bed and visualize the playbook and defensive schemes for the next opponent after a lengthy film session with their coach (Dad).  They need to ice their wounds from skidding across the hardwood, hit the gym for some quick sets on the leg press and a bit of jump-rope, and top it off with some overdue homework and an apologetic email to their professor.  "Dr. Schlitzberger, Please accept my late paper submission.  I was busy saving our season with a clutch three-pointer and volunteering at the YMCA and lost track of time.  I'll be happy to make it up to you by washing out all of the beakers and polishing the Bunsen burners.  Sincerely, John EffortGuy."

The only real exception to the Effort Guy rule is the entire Duke University team.  Coach Mike Krzyzewski has created a program wherein the Effort Guy thrives and duplicates each year until he has a squad full of unselfish Effort Guys.  They dive for loose balls, shoot the three with precision, make the extra pass, and play defense like an Amazonian anaconda.  The anomaly that is Duke basketball will continue to baffle effort guy theorists for years to come.

This year, take time to celebrate the Effort Guy and give him his place in the spotlight of the NCAA tournament.  You won't see him next year in the NBA playing alongside Kobe and LeBron.  You'll see him completing his Masters degree, driving a Volvo, or managing a car dealership.  No signing bonuses for the Effort Guy, only commission checks.  He's the likeliest unlikely hero at Michigan State, West Virginia, and Butler, and the go-to guy at Northern Iowa, Ohio State, Cornell, and Gonzaga.

The Effort Guy will grace the cover of Sports Illustrated or the ESPN.com homepage, but only for a day, and will be quickly forgotten until next year when he'll be a senior.  In the meantime, he'll perfect his up-and-under post move, work tirelessly to raise his free throw stats a half-percentage point, and build homes for displaced families in Haiti.  

Even as you read this, an Effort Guy is somewhere boxing out for one of his five rebounds, in a darkened room watching game film, or cleaning his oddly large sneakers with a toothbrush.